


What A Wonderful World

by GemmaRose



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - It's a Wonderful Life Fusion, Aromantic Hunk (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, everything goes to hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 02:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14865173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: Given a chance to ask a space genie one question and receive a truthful answer, Lance can't help but want to know what would've happened if he'd never been born.





	What A Wonderful World

“Huh, I’m see-through.” Lance lifted a hand and peered through it. “So am I, like, a ghost?” he looked over at the faint glow which marked the space-genie’s presence.

“Considering you were never born, I suppose that is an accurate description.” the space-genie agreed. “Now, I will leave you to find the answer to your question. When you are satisfied, call for me and I will return you to your own world. If you do not call, then I will retrieve you when you reach the current date.”

“So I don’t see the future, got it.” Lance nodded, and turned to face the glowing blue marble of Earth. A sharp tug against the small of his back sent him hurtling forwards, down past space stations and into the atmosphere. Continents stretched out below him, and unease churned in his gut as he honed in on the Galaxy Garrison. It wasn’t long before he was standing in a familiar dorm room, watching a familiar scene play out in front of him. Only this time, the people were different. This time, he was watching from the outside instead of not-so-subtly checking out his new roomie.

Hunk’s roommate agreed not to mess with Hunk’s things, Hunk smiled, and time seemed to warp as Lance trailed behind Hunk to his morning classes. At lunch, Hunk sat with his Aeronautic Engineering lab partner and a few of her friends from other classes. He made them laugh critiquing the Garrison’s food, and they swapped numbers and social media accounts. Afterwards, time warped again, speeding through days so fast Lance felt almost dizzy from repeating the same route over and over again. He barely noticed when the world did spin around him, except for how it stopped just after.

He nearly walked right into Hunk, and looked over the not-yet-Paladin’s shoulder to see why Hunk had stopped. There was a boy there, two actually, chatting outside a classroom, but Hunk was clearly looking at one of them in particular. He squared his shoulders, marched up, and Lance’s stomach did a flip as Hunk handed over a neatly hand-written letter. Time sped up again after that, until lunch when the boy came and sat next to Hunk and-

Lance looked away, his entire body burning at the sound of Hunk’s delighted laughter and his friends’ congratulations. Time seemed to drag after that, and Lance felt sick. Hunk was happy, happier than Lance could ever remember seeing him when they were at school together. He had more friends, a queerplatonic partner who was second only to Keith in the simulator, a roommate who didn’t borrow his things without asking or forget how to put the room back in order. He could call the space-genie now, or- or he could wait and see if this guy was secretly a jerk.

Lance inhaled sharply through his nose, and steeled himself as the world began to speed up again, rushing him through Hunk’s life. The rest of the semester passed in a blink, and the one after that, and the summer, and the next semester... Hunk’s partner wasn’t a jerk, his friends weren’t catty or cruel, he was doing well in his classes and extending offers of friendship to Pidge at every opportunity. It made Lance feel sick, and he was opening his mouth to call for the space-genie when time abruptly dropped to normal speed.

Everyone was gathered at the window of one of the science labs, peering out at something Lance couldn’t get close enough to see and chattering excitedly. Purple streaked across the top of the window, and Lance’s stomach lurched as he checked the date in the corner of the projector screen. No, no that couldn’t be right. He jumped, and hovered in mid-air to look out the window. On the baked earth outside, a shadow loomed. One he knew intimately, from flying into it with weapons ready and alien tides roaring in his skull.

The door slammed open, and Lance dropped to the floor to place himself between Hunk and the galra sentries entering the room. The teacher stepped forwards, and got out a few words about disrupting the class before a pink-purple bolt of light caught her in the chest. She toppled forwards, and then the screaming started. With the door open, Lance could hear more blaster fire and screaming, and if he hadn’t been a ghost he might’ve hurled at the realization of what was happening. They were killing the staff. A girl with intricate braids charged forwards with a battle cry, and Lance staggered as the world lurched around him.

The students were shepherded into the gym after some time, and Lance’s chest tightened at the sight of Hunk reassuring one of his engineer friends that they’d be okay. A galra officer stood in the middle of the floor, and Lance’s legs finally buckled under him. The galra were on Earth. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Keith knew where Blue was, and once he went there with Shiro surely Blue would come alive at the presence of two Paladins. As the galra officer droned on about how Earth was now part of the Empire and the Garrison cadets conscripts-in-training, Lance’s stomach sank further. This was wrong. This was wrong, wrong on so many levels.

An upperclassman Lance didn’t recognize shot to his feet to argue, and was summarily silenced with a blaster bolt through the skull. Nobody else stood until they were sent back to their rooms. Time moved a little faster after that, and Lance devoured any news he could catch in passing. Military bases, centers of government, whole countries were being destroyed. By the time Imperial rule had been established across the planet, every clear plastic pane under a fluorescent bulb in the Garrison had been replaced with one tinted pink-purple. The curriculum changed, alien tools and technology appearing in the labs, and even in the midst of everything going so horribly wrong Lance couldn’t help but feel a proud of Hunk for learning how to work with galra tech so quickly.

It was hard to tell, with the way time moved so irregularly, but Lance thought it had been about a month when Hunk spotted Pidge in the hall on his way to the bathroom. He followed Hunk at a distance, not needing to hear the conversation to understand what was being said. Pidge’s loaded backpack and neatly pressed uniform said enough. Hunk nodded, and Lance waited in the hall as he ran back to his room to change out of his PJs. He took the chance to look at Pidge. They’d let their hair grow out a bit, and stopped wearing their glasses. There wasn’t much else different, except for a hardness in their eyes Lance had never seen before.

Hunk returned, wearing his own purple and grey uniform, and Lance followed the pair out to the training shuttles. Their fighter pilot was waiting in one, and Lance gripped the back of Hunk’s seat as the tiny craft took off. The lights in here had been tinted purple as well, and it made his stomach churn uneasily. The whole thing felt off, and maybe it was because he was used to Paladin missions but it seemed far too easy. Three disabled sentries and several tricked-open doors later, Lance stood behind his friends as Pidge feverishly hacked through a cell door.

It opened on sentries, and after a few minutes of running and screaming Hunk made the most heartbreaking sound Lance had ever heard. The pilot who’d brought them here lay dead, a gory mess in the wreckage of the shuttle, and Lance let out a wordless sound of distress as Hunk wrapped himself around Pidge to stop them from seeing it. They were separated almost as soon as they left the bay, and time sped up around him as Lance followed Hunk through prisoner processing and transport away from Earth. He ached to reach out and wrap an arm around Hunk’s shoulders, to kiss his temple and assure him everything would be alright, but he couldn’t.

Time whirled by in a blur of purple until he jerked to a stop in a hallway that ended in a large door. Hunk was surrounded by other prisoners, all of them looking anxious, and the galra guard at the front was smiling cruelly. Something on his wrist beeped, and he motioned for a sentry to grab another prisoner. Hunk staggered between them for a few steps, and Lance swallowed hard at the sight of the weapon pressed into his hand. He’d seen that weapon maybe twice, but he knew what it was meant for. Where it was used.

The doors to the arena opened, and Hunk was thrown out to face some massive beast with too many limbs and eyes and _teeth_. Lance’s heart leapt into his throat, and remained there for several minutes as Hunk dodged and hid and screamed. The alien finally stunned itself charging into a pillar, which wobbled unsteadily before falling down on top of the beast with a sickening squish-crunch, and Lance had to look away as Hunk put the blade to what he could only assume was its throat. It was a mercy kill, and they both knew it, but he still couldn’t bear to watch.

The next fight was a few days later, and Lance felt tears tracing down his cheeks as Hunk pleaded with his opponent. He had only ever wanted to be an engineer, not a soldier. His strength, his hands, weren’t meant for hurting people. Time and again, he begged his opponent to let him be merciful. Time and again, Lance had to look away as he brought them down with tears in his eyes. Time and again, Lance could do nothing to console him afterwards when he sat alone in his cell and shook and cried.

Time warped yet again, and Lance guessed a few weeks flowed past this time before he was jerked back to normal speed. The room was unfamiliar to Lance, but Hunk moved through it with purpose so he must’ve been in here before. Lance scanned the room as he made some exchange with a galra behind a counter. There must be something important about to happen, but what? His eyes landed on one of the other gladiators, and his breath caught in his throat. He’d know that mullet anywhere.

“Here.” Hunk held out a package, and Keith looked up from whatever he was picking at. “You’re Champion, right?”

Champion? Lance’s eyes widened. That couldn’t be right, Shiro was Champion. Unless Shiro was on another ship and Keith was the local Champion? Something about that didn’t sit right with him, but he couldn’t focus for too long because Keith was looking Hunk up and down with an unnerving look in his eyes. Not interest but, appraisal? Whatever it was, it made his face look even more wrong than the scars did.

“That’s what the galra call me.” Keith said after a few long seconds, and Hunk sat down across from him.

“I knew I recognized you.” he smiled awkwardly, the expression there and gone in a second. “They made us watch your fights back at the Garrison, as a warning what would happen if we stepped too far out of line.”

“Obviously wasn’t a very good warning.” Keith said, startling a laugh out of Lance and Hunk both. Who knew Keith had a sense of humour?

“Well, we are the only humans here.” Hunk pointed out. “And it’s been forever since I got to talk to someone my own age.”

“No.” Keith scowled. “I know what you’re trying to do, and I won’t play along.” he pushed Hunk’s gift away and stood up. “I’m not getting you killed too.” he muttered as he stalked past Lance, and realization hit like a spear to his gut even as time began to warp around him again. Shiro would’ve done his best to protect Keith, up to and including insisting the galra take his life instead of Keith’s. Up to and including letting Keith win a deathmatch between them.

It was hard to pay proper attention to Hunk’s fights when time was moving so fast, but Lance got enough glimpses to make his stomach turn. He forced himself not to look away when Hunk faced down an alien that was clearly too young to be a combatant, even when each blow from Hunk’s sword thing made him wince. When had he stopped offering mercy? When had kind, _good_ Hunk become so ruthless he was ranked in the top ten gladiators?

Time slowed back to normal as he walked into the arena yet again, head held high and jaw set resolutely. Lance’s stomach twisted as he spotted pale skin and dark hair across the field. The galra couldn’t mean for this to be a death match, could they? Keith, predictably, charged in first. He’d exchanged his weird gladiator sword for an actual one, and Hunk had visible trouble parrying it. They traded blows with sickening cracks and cries of pain, and Lance didn’t want to see, didn’t want to know, but he couldn’t look away.

Hunk finally went down with a pommel strike to the back of the head, and Lance collapsed next to him as Keith limped off the field. Time warped briefly, and he found himself in a hallway as both of them were dragged by sentries. The door to a room opened, and Lance forced himself to his feet to walk through it. There were a handful of cryo-pod looking things, only purple and with more hard lines, and his breath caught painfully in his throat at the sight of the druid manning them.

They were shorter than the other handful of druids in the room, and when they cocked their head at Hunk a curtain of golden brown hair fell in front of their pale face. There was no recognition in those glowing golden eyes as they set the pods, and Lance couldn’t stop the sob from wrenching itself free of his throat.

“Enough.” he gasped, burying his face in his hands as time began to flow faster again. “Please, I don’t want to see any more.”

“Very well, then.” the space-genie’s voice resonated in his head, the world around him dissolving into stars. “Did you find the answer to your question?”

“I don’t care.” Lance scrubbed at his eyes. “I just want to go back to my universe.”

“Very well, then.”

Lance’s eyes flew open, and after a moment of disorientation he realized the figures leaning over him were his friends. He lurched upright, and threw his arms around Hunk with a sob. Hunk yelped, but after a second he returned the crushing hug. “We were so worried.” he murmured as he rest of the team crowded around.

“What happened?” Pidge asked, gripping Lance’s elbow.

Lance opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was another sob. Why was he crying? He was happy, not sad, but he still couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay.” Hunk soothed, holding Lance close by the waist with one and carding the other through his hair.

“What did you do to him?” Shiro demanded, his hand lifting from Lance’s shoulder as he presumably turned to face the space-genie. There was a moment of silence, and then Keith spoke up.

“What kind of answer did you give him that knocked him out for five goddamn minutes?” he demanded, and Lance pressed himself as close to Hunk as he could.

“Hey, guys?” Hunk’s hand left his head and travelled down to his thighs. “I’m gonna take Lance inside.”

“Good idea.” Coran agreed, and Lance clung to Hunk even tighter as he was lifted from the floor. Hunk would never drop him, of course, but the contact was reassuring. He was here, this was real. Hunk was carrying him and murmuring soothing platitudes under his breath, not lying motionless in a galran healing pod.

“I can walk, y’know.” Lance hicupped once the tears had mostly stopped.

Hunk’s chest shook under the smooth white space-material of his breastplate, and his arms tightened ever so slightly around Lance. “Like hell I’m letting go of you.” he replied. “You were out for five whole minutes.”

Lance grimaced against Hunk’s armour. It had felt like so, so much longer.

“We’re almost to your room.” Hunk said a few long seconds later. “I’ll put you down in there.”

“Okay.” Lance nodded, and wished the collars of their breastplates would let him bury his face in Hunk’s neck. The rest of the walk to his room passed in comfortable silence, and when his feet touched the floor he started removing his armour. He swore as he fumbled the clasp on one of his vambraces for the third time, and Hunk caught his shaking hands before he could do something stupid.

“Hey.” he said softly, lifting a hand to rest on Lance’s cheek. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Lance shook his head, but didn’t protest when Hunk undid his vambrace. “I don’t even know where I’d start.” he admitted.

“Well, how about you sit down and start at the beginning while I get your greaves off?” Hunk suggested, undoing Lance’s other gauntlet at he spoke.

Lance nodded numbly, and went to sit on the edge of his bed. Hunk quickly peeled off his own upper body armour, and knelt in front of Lance with an expectant look. Lance sighed, and looked at one of his hands resting on the blanket. “The space-genie-”

“Pluvan.” Hunk interrupted. “Xir species is pluvan.”

“Whatever.” Lance curled his fingers in the blanket. “The pluvan said xie couldn’t answer my question, so xie let me see...” he trailed off, and Hunk rested a hand on his knee.

“Take your time.”

“I saw things, Hunk.” he looked up from the blankets and met dark, familiar brown eyes. Eyes hardened some by war, but still soft and warm and so kind they made his heart do backflips in his chest. “Things I’d rather die than let happen again.”

“Dramatic much?” Hunk chuckled, pulling Lance’s boots off one after the other.

“I mean it, Hunk.” Lance insisted. “I’d rather die than watch the galra turn you into a gladiator like they did Shiro.”

Hunk’s eyes widened, and he froze in the middle of undoing a clasp under Lance’s knee. “Lance.” he said slowly, releasing the armour and sitting back. “What did you ask?”

Lance looked back at the blanket, scrunched and twisted with the force of his grip. “You’re not gonna like it.” he mumbled, and Hunk put a hand on each of his knees.

“I don’t like that this _obviously_ upset you, and you won’t tell me what it is.” he squeezed Lance’s knees gently, and when Lance looked up he saw nothing but concern on Hunk’s face. “So please, Lance. Talk to me. Or if not me, tell me who-”

“I asked if you would’ve been happier if I was never born.” Lance blurted. Hunk stared, and Lance looked away as his throat tightened. “Told you you wouldn’t like it.” he muttered.

“ _Lance_.” Hunk rose and sat at his side, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “We’ve talked about this. Just because I don’t love you romantically doesn’t mean I don’t love you.” he took Lance’s hands in his own again, rubbing his calloused thumbs over Lance’s knuckles. “I can’t even imagine what my life would’ve been like without you in it. If I’d never met you...” he trailed off, and tilted his head. “Wait, if you’d never been born...”

Lance ducked his head, and Hunk released his hands to pull him into a tight hug. “That must’ve been awful.”

“It was.” Lance agreed into Hunk’s chest.

“And it’s never going to happen.” Hunk said confidently. “You were born, and we’re together, and nothing that pluvan showed you is gonna happen.”

Lance nodded slowly, and couldn’t help but smile when Hunk kissed his cheek. “Feeling better now that’s all off your chest?”

“Yeah.” Lance grinned, and turned to wrap his arms around Hunk’s waist. “Could still use some cuddling, though.”

“Can never have too many cuddles.” Hunk nodded sagely. “Let’s get our armour off first, though.” he kissed Lance again, this time on the nose, and chuckled against his skin.

It didn’t even take a minute to strip the rest of the way down to their flight suits, and when Hunk laid down Lance immediately scooted back against him. Hunk laughed, soft and breathy, and pressed a kiss to Lance’s ear as he pulled their bodies flush. “Nobody in the universe could ever make me as happy as you.” he murmured, the pitch of it so close to Lance’s ear sending shivers down his spine.

The words themselves, though, coiled in his gut like cold lead. Just half an hour ago he would’ve believed that, would’ve taken pride in it. Now though, even knowing better... he couldn’t bring himself to call Hunk out on his lie.


End file.
